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by mydeira, Sadbhyl



Series: Responsible Adults (aka, The Menageaverse) [13]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 19:56:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadbhyl/pseuds/Sadbhyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ethan brings a gift by for Joyce</p>
            </blockquote>





	Results

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after the events of Resting State and the episode Restless. 
> 
> Written by Sadbhyl, beta'd by Mydeira

Ethan watched Joyce’s house for a long time from the shelter of the trees across the street. Lights were on in the kitchen and the living room and one upstairs, probably in her bedroom. Her Cherokee was in the drive with no sign of Ripper’s battered Citroen. There wasn’t much movement in the house, although he saw the soft flicker of blue against the curtains which indicated the TV was on. All the evidence suggested that she was alone. He tapped the envelope against his hand and drew a deep breath.

Time to face the music.

He crossed the street purposefully and mounted the steps to ring the doorbell. He waited, quelling the agitation building in him.

The door opened, and Joyce stood there.

She was dressed comfortably in worn cotton flannel pajamas, her hair pulled back off her face into a soft ponytail, her face bare of makeup.

When she smiled, it lit her whole face.

“Ethan!” She threw her arms around him, and he returned the gesture, enjoying the feel of her soft curves against his body after all these weeks. “You’ve been gone so long, I wasn’t sure you were coming back.”

He resisted the urge to nuzzle her hair. “Wasn’t sure if I was still wanted.”

She looked up into his eyes. “ _I’m_ glad to see you.”

Meaning the jury was still out on Rupert.

“Come in,” she insisted, drawing him into the foyer and closing the door behind him. “Have a seat,” she added, settling on the far end of the couch. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess. I wasn’t expecting company.”

He smiled as she tried to fuss unsuccessfully with her hair, but remained standing. “You look quite lovely,” he said warmly, and was rewarded with a girlish blush. “I brought you something.” And he offered her the envelope.

She looked up at him curiously as she took it. “What is it?”

“Open it.”

She looked from him to the envelope and back as she untucked the flap to draw out a single sheet from a multipart form and unfolded it. She scanned over it. “This looks like a medical report.”

“It is,” he confirmed. “Mine. The pertinent part would be here.” He leaned over to indicate a few lines on the form. “White blood cell count normal, T cells at twelve hundred, no occurrence of HIV, syphilis, gonorrhea or Chlamydia. And best of all, I’m not pregnant.”

“Ethan.” She chided him for his quip, gesturing with the paper. “You got tested? When?”

“The week after I saw you last.”

“Why?”

“The last time we . . . when we . . . I . . .” He took a deep breath, forcing the words out. “When I abused you that day, I didn’t take any precautions. I didn’t want you to worry.”

She read over the results again before giving him an odd look. “That’s almost sweet of you.”

He chuckled. “Now, now, my dear. No need to be nasty.”

“Ethan, please,” she pulled at his hand, “sit down. You look as though you’re about to run out the door.”

“I hadn’t anticipated staying long.”

“You’re staying long enough to sit for a bit.”

He surrendered, settling on the couch next to her.

She turned to face him, tucking her feet up under her like a young girl. “So, where have you been for more than a month?” she asked, resting her head on her fist against the back of the couch.

“Traveling about,” he replied vaguely. “Gathering up a few things I need for a project.”

She smiled. “What are you up to now?”

“My dear, you can hardly expect me to own it. You might feel obligated to inform that delightfully violent daughter of yours. Or worse, Rupert.”

She sighed and slumped back against the cushions. “I don’t see much chance of that happening.”

He reached out and let a finger trace one loose tendril of her hair before tucking it back behind her ear. “Are you two still on the outs?”

She shrugged. “I think . . . I thought we’d made our peace a few weeks ago. But since then, it’s almost as though he’s avoiding me. We never seem to have a moment alone together, and our phone conversations are so short. It’s as if he doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Did you talk things through when you reconciled?”

“No, not really. We didn’t have time. He said we would, soon. But that was three weeks ago. I think . . .” She dropped her eyes to fiddle with her hands. “I’m afraid he doesn’t find me attractive anymore, knowing what we did.”

“No, no, no.” Despite his intentions to give her space, he pulled her into his arms, offering her comfort. “If you haven’t spoken, then he doesn’t _know_ what happened that night. But he knows what he did, what you saw in him, the next morning. I would imagine that is what is giving him the most difficulties.”

She nestled into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist, and he was filled with an unexpected sense of quiet contentment. Hesitantly he raised his hand to gently stroke her hair. “But why?” she asked, her voice small and confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Joyce, he’s spent the last twenty years trying to crush all vestiges of Ripper from his life. I’m sure you saw him before I first came to town, all tweed and sweater vests and so properly formal. That’s his penance for the damage Ripper did. When that violence comes out of him, he feels as though he’s failed. And if someone else sees . . . .”

She lifted her head. “What did he do that could be so bad?”

He kissed her forehead gently. “It’s not my place to tell you that. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. He needs to.”

“And in the meantime?”

He drew her back down to his chest. “Avoidance is his natural reaction to all things Ripper. Your two choices are to wait him out or confront him. But make certain he can’t escape when you do, because his instinct will be to run.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She let out a deep breath and relaxed into his embrace. For long minutes, he held her like that, aware of the slow, steady beat of her heart, the soft susurrations of her breathing. “I missed you,” she finally said softly.

Her words touched him, and he gently kissed the top of her head. “I can’t imagine why.”

She looked up at him sadly. “Rupert’s not the only one prone to avoidance.”

“You could do a lot better for yourself than a worn out, tired old sorcerer.”

Now she sat up, her expression serious. “You are neither worn out nor old,” she insisted. “And you don’t think so, either. What is this really about?”

He felt exposed, raw, like she’d turned over his rock and revealed him to the sunlight. “Once was enough, Joyce,” he said, his voice harsh with intensity. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“We’ve been together any number of times in which you’ve never been anything but gentle and thoughtful.” She rested a hand on his chest. “Do you still want me, Ethan? Or did I lose your interest that night, too?”

“Christ, Joyce!” He cupped his hand around her cheek, stroking his thumb comfortingly along the bone. “Don’t think that. You are a brilliant, beautiful girl, and we’d be stupid not to . . .”

She crushed her mouth over his, mobile and inviting, and he surrendered to the desire he had held in check all evening, wrapping his arms around her to pull her astride his lap, never breaking the connection to her mouth. He combed his fingers up along her scalp, releasing the band to let her hair fall in loose waves around her shoulders. Her fingers were busy as well, quickly releasing the hold of his shirt buttons to run her warm palms over the exposed flesh of his chest. His groan of pleasure made her smile against his mouth, and she began to rub her hips caressingly against the front of his trousers.

He growled and pulled his head away to look into her heady eyes. “Keep that up, my girl, and this will be very short.”

She licked her lips sensually. “I can live with short,” she said, catching the hem of her top to lift it up over her head quickly, baring her heavy breasts to his hungry gaze. “You can make it up to me later.” And she returned to his mouth, the soft curve of her breasts caressing the hard planes of his chest as she moved.

A fierce sense of possession seized him, and he twisted them to press her down into the sofa cushions, licking and sucking down along her neck to her breasts. His mouth eagerly worked over her breasts as he held her hands pinned until she was twisting and mewling against him. He released her then and caught the elastic waistband of her pajama trousers, breaking away to pull the soft cotton off her long legs and cast it aside, leaving her naked to his gaze, her breasts heaving in desire, her hips rolling in invitation. She was magnificent, and she wanted him. He shrugged off his shirt, quickly opening his pants as he kicked his shoes aside. He wasn’t one to disappoint a lady, especially not this lady.

He stepped out of his trousers, now as naked as she, and moved to settle himself between her thighs. But the first touch of her juicy quim against his cock head was a bucket of cold water. “Joyce,” he said hoarsely, starting to pull away, “we’re not protected.”

She stopped him, her legs pulling him back in. “We don’t need to be.” Her tone was tempting, alluring. “You’re clean, remember?”

“Nevertheless . . .”

She surged up against him, driving his full length deep into her with a soft cry of satisfaction. His resistance crumbled in the face of her warm, wet, welcoming softness, and he collapsed against her, reveling in the feel of her around his bare cock for the first time. He began to move, the drag and pull of her pillowy muscles caressing his length with every stroke, her soft mewls and sighs encouraging more. His rhythm established, he bent to work his mouth along the sensitive flesh along her ear. “You have me completely enchanted,” he whispered against her flushed skin as she gasped. “I can’t seem to stay away from you. I don’t want to. I belong in your bed, my lady. It’s the only place in the world for me.”

“Ethan,” she gasped, and he could tell how close she was. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her to pump faster, deeper, touching her in the way he had come to know she liked best. Her hands clutched at his forearms hard and he thrust harder, feeling her orgasm tightening around his cock, seeing it twist her face. And suddenly he gasped, his own release firing through him as he drove deeper into her, making her trembling body spasm as she screamed his name in rapture. He shuddered against her, feeling his seed shoot freely into her clenching quim, and he collapsed on top of her, each of them sucking in deep breaths as they came down.

He realized that he felt very much like he had come home.

And that sensation frightened him.

When they could move again, he rolled them to hold her in the curve of his arm, her length supported by the back of the couch. He caressed her hair, while she etched gentle patterns in the sweat on his chest. They might have lain there for moments or hours, just comfortably entwined, before she spoke. “Did you like that? Did it feel better? Without the condom, I mean.”

He didn’t open his eyes. “Hmm, let me see. Your warm, melting flesh versus a thin skin of cold latex. I’ll have to think on that. Let me get back to you.”

“Better enough for you to give up the others?”

“What others?”

“The . . . partners you go to when you aren’t with me and Rupert.”

“Joyce, that’s not why . . .”

“I know,” she interrupted, not looking up at him. “I understand why. But if you’re clean, and could have this, with nothing between us, wouldn’t it be worth finding another way?”

Her voice was so hopeful, he felt as though he’d failed her already. “I could never guarantee . . .”

“No, but you could try. And tell me if you fail. I won’t judge you. You could do that.”

His heart clenched. She had such faith in him. After everything he’d done . . . He kissed the top of her hair and whispered softly, “What are you doing to me?”

“I’m trying to save you.”

“Don’t. I’m beyond salvation. Focus your energies on Rupert. You’ll likely have more success with him.”

She curled her arms more tightly around him. “No reason I can’t do both.”

With one fluid motion, he rose to his feet and swept her up into his arms. She squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to take you upstairs and make up for earlier.” He pulled her close, catching her mouth in a slow, bruising kiss that belied all his confusing emotions. “And I promise you it will take a very, very long time.”


End file.
